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The possibility of "Dash"-shipping has crossed my mind. I'm a hopeless romantic myself but I want this to be different from my usual works. I hooked up Ash and May at the end of PVAVP and I've been trying really hard not to turn PZ into a stupid parody either but as I've said, I'm kind of making up this story as I go along. So if a romantic angle feels natural and not terribly predictable, I might go for it.

As for Ash growing up, well I had to find some semi-plausible explanation for why he doesn't sound like a complete retard when he narrates.

L4K was starting out saying something about a preference for a romantic angle in my story but paused halfway through the sentence when an idea struck and decided to keep it private for now. Pointless but straightforward IMO.

No sooner did I arm Dawn than the zombified Alakazam from the poster teleported into the room, grabbed her and teleported away. Brock, Pikachu and I were stunned into inaction by the sPeed with which it happened. Dawn was gone and the three of us were left in that room to helplessly ponder the fate of our dear friend. I wanted more than anything to charge out of that room, guns a-blazing, Pikachu a-zapping, hunt down that freak of nature and reclaim my friend. But it would have been in vain. All we could do was pray and hope for the best but in truth we had time for neither.

Brock and I decided to release our Pokemon. We knew it was risky but all we had were a couple of sharp sticks to arm ourselves with. The safety of our Pokemon had always been our first concern but if we died in that room there would be nobody else to protect them. We explained the situation and asked if any of them would rather remain safe in their Pokeballs. None did.

Then it stopped. The screaming and scratching dittos stopped their assault on our door. What could it mean? Had they given up? Did they find something else to pursue or did they just grow tired. Aipom, Turtwig, Pikachu, Sudowoodo, Croagunk, Brock and I stood ready to face whatever might have come but for what felt like an hour, nothing did.

Then we heard something outside our window. It was the sound of bones crunching. We peaked around the table and through the curtain. A huge zombie Machamp swayed back and forth outside with a collection of corpses and limbs gathered in its four arms. We saw the profile of its face as it bit into a dead man’s torso and chewed on the leaking intestines like they were thick, wet noodles. It was disgusting. However, Pikachu was again the first of us to notice something even more disturbing happening right behind us.

Pikachu barked to our attention a large puddle of gelatinous pinkish gray fluid which had leaked into the room from a slight opening in the door and passed beneath our blockade. From said puddle of Ditto fluid arose the four decayed copies of Brock, Dawn, Pikachu and myself. Why they kept those forms, I don’t know because Dawn wasn’t even with us anymore.

But before Brock or I could command them to attack, his Croagunk and Sudowoodo quickly pushed us aside. Pikachu’s call of alarm also brought the attention of the juggernaut outside. Machamp smashed its way in through the window, sending the propped up table flying into the four stolen faces of our ditto clones. Again they all exploded from the impact into a sPlattering of that rotten goo. Two of zombie Machamp’s lower arms still carried remains of the dead. The upper two were poised to grab prey.

A continuous torrent of lightening and razor-sharp leaves were launched by Pikachu and Turtwig at this new antagonist. We knew they’d be little more than a minor annoyance but we used that bought second to escape through what used to be our window.

Back on the foggy deck, Brock and I ran with our five remaining Pokemon seeking some new temporary shelter and praying that there would be no more unpleasant--and undead--surprises. But Lo, after passing around the corner where we previously met the four Ditto, we came across two other Pokemon crouching by their meal of dead men. The first to turn and meet our gaze was the grisly Weavile from the poster. The second we almost couldn’t identify at first on account of how mutilated it was but then we realized the creature had been the Charmeleon. I could scarce suppress a smirk when I noticed it’s tail flame had been snuffed. Shortly, though, I would learn that that didn’t make it’s firepower much less potent.

Constant danger had seemed to tweak Brock’s and my reflexes to an unprecedented degree. As we leapt aside from Charmeleon’s Flamethrower attack, the Machamp who had all along been chasing us, took the brunt of the flames. Weavile, meanwhile, less interested in Brock and myself opted instead to rush his Croagunk, all 6 claws extended. It was instead intercepted by the Focus Punch of Brock’s Sudowoodo. The impact sent Weavile flying into the face of that flaming Machamp who was desPerately trying to extinguish the blaze on its body with quickened slapping.

It pulled the enraged zombie Weavile off and held it up to insPect with it’s one remaining good eye. Machamp’s eye did not last long as the enraged Weavile slashed up the brute’s face and neck with those terrible claws. Now denied of all but it’s sense of touch, the livid Machamp picked up Weavile in it’s two upper hands, ripped the devil in two and tossed both halves away; the lower far out over the railing and the upper over the rest of the cruise, presumably to the watery grave on the other side.

In a moment we would have to deal with the maddened Machamp but right then, all of our Pokemon concentrated some kind of attack on Charmeleon. Thundershock, Razor Leaf, Swift, Mudball and finally a Focus Punch to the flaming face of the zombie. Charmeleon’s head came clear off. It’s body would continue to wander about almost comically for a few minutes with a small fire dancing from it’s neck.

Finally, the four-armed behemoth, confused and seething, simultaneously slammed each of it’s fists onto the polished wooden deck causing us to lose our collective balance and fall. All but Sudowoodo who stood on a plank which seesawed and flung the unfortunate Pokemon over the nearby railing. We heard a long cry followed by a sPlash.

Sudowoodo had always been a good, reliable Pokemon who had just saved my life and I would miss it. However, I did not feel sorry for it. It’s troubles, whether it drowned or was gobbled up by one of the sea’s countless zombie denizens, were over. My sympathies lied with poor Brock who had raised it from infancy. There was no time to look over the railing in any attempt at rescue or even to mourn. Machamp crawled our way on all six limbs, pounding each open hand on the floor in hopes of catching one of us.

We stood there momentarily pondering whether or not it would be wise to try and stake its brain with our chair legs or just have our Pokemon attack it from a safe distance. Both prosPects would be terribly risky. Before we could decide, however, our four Zombie Ditto clones jumped out through a nearby window landing across from Machamp. Feeling the impact of their bodies on the deck and the sPray of glass shards sPrinkling against it, the giant charged at them.

That’s when everything got a little bit weirder. Ditto Ash, Ditto Pikachu, Ditto Brock and Ditto Dawn all combined to fuse themselves into a gigantic zombified Ditto-Machamp who grabbed our common antagonist in mid-charge and flipped it into the broken window as one would a doll. That hindrance taken care of, Giant Zombie Ditto-Machamp turned it’s attention to us and needless to say, a chase was underfoot.

We turned another corner and descended a narrow staircase leading to the ship’s lower chambers. The amalgamated antagonist could have adjusted it’s size to fit through but it opted instead to barrel through the passageway as its strength allowed, destroying the walls. Nor did that method slow it down a second. As we ran through the lower hallway, it continued gaining on us as it galloped on those six frightful limbs.

Sadly, the only thing that slowed it down was my Aipom who bravely stopped to turn back and attack it with Swift. At least it tried. Before Aipom could attack, the monster pounced on and devoured my poor Pokemon. Pikachu then stopped to attack the hell beast with another Thunderbolt, which had been growing substantially weaker considering all the times they had been used that day. The attack didn’t pull off nearly as much damage as it had previously and it wasn’t even finished before our pursuer slammed its fists into the metal floor. The impact reverberated throughout the entire ship and knocked Pikachu off it’s feet causing the electric attack to backfire on itself. I picked it up and continued running for our lives.

The end of the hall was fast approaching. It sPlit off into right and left and from the right came a zombified Ninetails when we were about twenty feet away. It was entirely hairless and like that Charmeleon, skin was burned horribly.

There we were between a rock and a hard place. Any thoughts of running past Ninetails in hopes of Ditto-Machamp crashing into it were dashed when it opened it’s glowing mouth and vomited out a damn fire storm of a Flamethrower. Brock, who had been in front me, turned around to push me and Pikachu down to the floor. Turtwig and Croagunk ducked and covered behind us. In an instant, the entire hallway filled Ninetails’ conflagratory assault. However, as it is in the nature of fire to rise, we on the floor remained relatively safe. Relative to Ditto-Machamp at any rate who was currently turning into a big, flaming pile of goo and when the fire died down, so did it. For real this time.

I said relative to Ditto-Machamp because even though Brock survived, he was badly burned and needed to stop, drop and roll to put out the embers still on his clothes. He had saved my life and now, with the self-burning, zombified Ninetails approaching him, I would save his. Before its snapping, blackened jaws could ever reach my agonized friend, they were intercepted by my makeshift wooden stake. I plunged it upwards through the roof of its mouth and into the brain.

Immediately letting go, I jumped back to see what would happen. As Brock continued to roll around, Ninetails thrashed its burning head left and right but how much was instinct and how much was rigor mortis, I couldn’t tell. All I know is that seconds later, it fell to the ground dead whereas Brock slowly arose. A fair trade in my estimate. I couldn’t begin to thank him enough for saving my life but he told me not to sweat it. Chicks dig scars, he insisted and it was nothing a little Burn Heal wouldn’t fix when we’d reach land.

Suddenly, from the smoldering mess of what had been four amalgamated zombie Dittos in the form of a giant Machamp arose a smaller creature. My now undead Aipom who had evidently not been fully digested. Predictably, it lunged at us, jaws a-gaping, but was met in the air by three of Turtwig’s Bullet Seeds which rapidly germinated and covered my former friend in strong, hungry creepers. It would harmlessly lie on the floor screeching for an undetermined amount of time while the rest of us went on our way.